A Very Stark Birthday
by Binne
Summary: It's Tony's birthday. It turns out to be way different from the last one. There are plenty of surprises, some worse than others. Rated T for very, very minor language. Will likely be either a three- or four-shot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own _the Avengers_ or anything associated with them, and I'm not making a profit by posting this story.

Plot: It's Tony's birthday. It turns out to be _way_ different from the last one.

Note I: This particular "common room" is a large space, with a living area, dining area, and kitchenette.

Note II: This is my first Avengers fanfic, so I'd really appreciate some constructive criticism on characterization and stuff. Other than that, enjoy!

"Hey, Steve or Thor, get over here and help me hang these streamers!"

The two superheroes set down the heavy crates they'd just brought in to the communal Stark Tower living room, and burst out laughing when they caught sight of Bruce Banner sitting on the floor, buried under a pile of multicolored party decorations.

"What happened?" Steve asked, still chuckling, above Thor's booming laugh.

Banner glared. "The streamers and I wanted to be better friends, Cap. Now get me up before the other guy decides that I'm in danger."

Thor reached the scientist first and held out a hand, then pulled him to his feet. "I never thought to see you held at bay by paper."

Banner was spared having to answer by the arrival of the team's resident assassins. Steve turned to them. "Romanoff, Barton, report."

The two exchanged a quick glance before Natasha said, "Pepper spoke with JARVIS, and everything is set. Stark is completely oblivious."

"Good," Steve said, nodding. It was all going as planned.

Clint walked over to the crates that Steve and Thor had been carrying. "Nice, drinks! Good job, guys."

"Let's get those in the refrigerator," Steve said to the archer, as Banner and Thor started hanging the streamers from the ceiling. He and Clint brought the crates to the bar. Steve had been a little wary of involving alcohol in this affair, considering the possible ramifications of having a bunch of drunk superheroes/assassins running around New York, but Pepper herself had assured him that everything would be all right and that she'd help him keep an eye on everything to make sure that things didn't get _too_ out of hand.

By 1700 hours, the common room had been transformed, complete with flashing strobe lights courtesy of JARVIS. Natasha and Clint were setting the table, and Thor had switched from hanging streamers to hanging strands of Christmas lights that he'd found. Bruce had quietly confided in Steve that maybe the room looked a little _too _festive, but the captain was proud of what his team had accomplished.

Steve jumped as JARVIS announced, "Miss Potts has encountered a problem."

Everyone froze.

"What is it, JARVIS?" Steve asked, nervousness building within him. They weren't ready yet! They still had to set up the games, and not everyone was there.

The AI replied, "Mister Stark is curious about your activities. He ordered me to show him the common room, but I overrode the command and showed him footage of the room from yesterday, as Miss Potts instructed. I'm putting her through presently."

Pepper appeared as a hologram, looking desperate. "Guys," she whispered. "We need a distraction right now. Tony knows something is up."

Thinking quickly, Steve nodded in Banner's direction. "Bruce, you're on it."

The doctor shook his head. "What do I do?"

"Think up some science thing. Astrophysics," he said, confident that Banner could make it work. Stark always listened to him.

Pepper breathed a sigh. "Bruce, could you get down to the lab?" She looked down as her cell phone beeped, signifying, Steve guessed, that she had received a text message. "Happy's back with the cake."

JARVIS's cultured voice spoke again, "Sorry to interrupt, Miss Potts, but the other guests have arrived - they're waiting in the second-floor lobby. I've sent you a list."

Pepper checked her phone again and gasped. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh . . ."

"Ma'am?" Steve asked.

She took a deep breath and composed herself. "Everyone's there, but we have two party-crashers. Hill and Fury are here."

There was startled silence for a moment, and everyone turned to the assassins. Natasha looked confused, but Clint shrugged and offered, "I guess I might have mentioned it at work one day."

Steve stayed calm. This was either going to be really great or extremely, painfully, bad. There was no avoiding it, so he decided to meet it head on. "Right. Tell them to meet us here. Bruce, make sure you keep Tony out of the way until Pepper signals you otherwise. The rest of you should stay here and finish setting up."

The others nodded, and continued working, if at a faster pace than before. Bruce hurried out to find Stark, muttering about a new discovery that researchers at Columbia University had made. Pepper's image disappeared. Steve unrolled a poster and stuck it to the wall, almost completely positive that there was no way to cheat in "Pin the Tail on the Donkey." He felt a wave of nostalgia as he remembered playing the game at the few parties he'd attended during his childhood, then brushed it away. It wasn't the time or place for melancholy.

Happy came in with the cake a few minutes later, just as Banner sent Clint a text that read, _It's no use; he's too suspicious. Five minutes, max_.

"All right, go get changed," Steve ordered. Pepper rushed in, already in her party dress and making last-minute adjustments to the decorations. While the guys put on suit jackets, Natasha slipped out, though Steve wasn't too worried about her getting back in time - he knew from the stories that she could change faster than anyone else. The door opened, and everyone tensed, thinking that it was Stark, but instead, the remaining guests poured in: Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, Dr. Erik Selvig, who'd become a close friend of Banner's and Stark's, Jane Foster, who had also been accepted into the so-called "Science Club," and Darcy Lewis, who had become almost as permanent a fixture as Jane. Following them were Fury and Hill, who, like the others, were wearing party attire.

Everyone was talking animatedly and making introductions where they were needed, Pepper chatting with the director of SHIELD as if they were close friends. If Steve hadn't seen her initial reaction to the news that Fury had shown up uninvited, he'd have never believed that she'd been at all unsettled.

Natasha reentered the common room, dressed in her trademark black, drawing everyone's attention for a long moment. She nodded coolly to the new arrivals and took her place beside Clint, straightening his bowtie once everyone had looked away.

Steve cleared his throat. "Okay, everyone, assume positions. JARVIS, please turn off all the lights."

They all ducked behind the furniture and grabbed packs of confetti as the lights went off. From his spot behind an armchair, Steve glanced around. Thor and Jane were nearest, hidden by a couch, and he could just make out the figures of Clint and Natasha sitting atop the television console across the room. He decided that he didn't want to know how she'd gotten up there in her dress and high heels, or how she planned to get down.

Once again, the door opened unexpectedly, but it was just Banner, who stumbled over a rug before taking a place underneath the dining table. "Banner, report," Steve called in a half-whisper.

"I locked him in the lab, but he'll be up here in about thirty seconds."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked.

He imagined that the doctor was nodding. "Yes, because I told him that he wasn't allowed up here under any circumstances."

"Good plan," Steve said. Reverse psychology, if used properly, always worked on Stark. "Right, everyone quiet."

Tony was feeling pretty miffed. While it hadn't been the most effective of gestures, Bruce had just locked him in the lab, and then told him - no, ordered him - not to go to the common area. In his own house! Pepper had been acting way more strangely than usual, and to top it all off, there was something wrong with JARVIS. Some days, he wondered why the hell he had ever gotten involved in the Avengers Initiative, and then he remembered that, oh yeah, it hadn't really been a choice.

Once he'd escaped the lab, which hadn't really taken that long, JARVIS had gone silent. And either the AI was malfunctioning (unlikely), or one of Tony's esteemed teammates was messing with him. As he waited for the elevator to reach the common floor, his mind ran through the possibilities. It definitely wasn't Steve, who didn't know enough about technology to screw with JARVIS, and furthermore just _wouldn't_ because it would be an affront to his morals. Bruce was clearly in on it, but pranks weren't his specialty and he'd probably been blackmailed into distraction duty. Thor would be participating, too, if he thought the projected outcome was funny enough, but, like Steve, he lacked the necessary tech skill. And that left the super-secret superspy duo. Tony would bet anything that Clint had thought of something for the laughs, while Natasha was just going along with it because of the personal vendetta she seemed to have against him. Pepper wouldn't have been able to stop them, or maybe she thought that this - whatever this was - was funny, too.

The elevator _dinged _and Tony stepped out. Purposefully, he strode down the hallway to the common area, which occupied a fourth of the floor. It was where the team could often be found congregating after tough missions or for the occasional movie night. They didn't have any right to keep him out. He was going to go there and deal with whatever diabolical scheme they were planning before it got out of hand.

He took a deep breath as he came to the door, preparing himself for anything. He reached out, slid the door open and met with darkness and stillness. Even the blinds were shut. He was about to ask JARVIS for some illumination when the lights switched on of their own accord, confetti and neon streamers assaulted him - were those Christmas lights? - and one loud, collective shout rang out. "Happy Birthday, Tony!"

And suddenly everyone he cared about was standing in front of him.

"You're twenty-seven days early," he said, falling back to his instinctual form of defense. Why had they done this? There was no reason for it. The facts just didn't add up. He shook his head slightly - the flashing strobe lights were obscuring his vision.

He spotted Clint jumping smoothly to the floor from the top of the TV console, quickly followed by Natasha. _Show-offs. _

He felt Rhodey clap him on the shoulder, and Pepper press a kiss to his cheek, but he wasn't looking at them. He was looking at Fury, who wore his usual stern expression, and at - was that _Hill?_ In a _dress_?

This was rapidly making less and less sense.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**the Avengers**_** or anything associated with them, and I'm not making a profit by posting this story.**

**Quick Note: Sorry for the extremely limited science descriptions. I actually did the research on wormholes, but I just couldn't seem to absorb the information properly. Please excuse the lapse. **

**Also, a big shout out to everyone who followed and favorited, and of course to those who reviewed: Lupin fan1, Susan M. M, Qweb, and PercyJacksonTheAwesome. You guys are great and your feedback is really inspiring.**

**I finished this chapter pretty quickly and couldn't wait to post it. Make sure to let me know what you think, and if the story should be continued or not (It could definitely end here). I also love suggestions. Right now, I'm working on a possible chapter three, which has decided to be difficult, but I should update within a few days, probably between Monday and Wednesday. **

Chapter II

Thor insisted on holding the gift-giving first. No one argued except for Stark, but beneath his casual "Nah," the thunder god could tell that he was just as excited as everyone else. Most people didn't give Thor credit for perceptiveness, but he could also tell that Stark did not truly feel as festive as he appeared on the surface. There was a certain hesitance in all his actions, as if he was not at ease. That, Thor could not understand, but he hoped that opening the gifts would make the guest of honor feel better.

-A-

Tony sat in the middle of a couch, the rest of the group crowding around him. It wasn't long before a rectangular package, wrapped in quaint patterned paper, was handed to him. He didn't even have to look at the label to know that it was from Steve. The others called for him to open it, so he did, going through the motions rather mechanically.

He smirked when he uncovered the present, a snarky comment in his head - _Monopoly, Cap, really? _- but couldn't bring himself to voice it. Everyone was laughing, and Steve was smiling, clearly proud of his joke.

"Figured you might benefit from something simple, Stark," Steve said.

"Thanks, Spangles," Tony replied, but he hoped that the other man would understand that he didn't mean it maliciously.

Pepper handed the board game to Dummy, promising everyone that they could play it later if they wanted. "Who's next?" she asked.

Natasha stepped forward, wearing her usual emotionless expression, with Clint a step behind. They each handed him an envelope. Tony took them uncertainly, playing off his hesitation with a simple, "Are these things safe to open?" Hey, when master assassins were birthday party guests, it was better safe than sorry. He wouldn't have put it past them to not have slipped bombs in somehow.

He opened Natasha's first - she was more likely to try to kill him, so it was better to get it over with - and found that the card played "Shoot to Thrill," which was apparently a private joke between them now. Although the card itself was pretty standard, the note inside was not. "Read it," Rhodey called, plainly curious as to what a spy had to say to him.

Tony cleared his throat, checked to see that everyone was listening, and read Natasha's perfect cursive. "This entitles the bearer to four one-hour self-defense courses, to be held on the common floor gym at six o'clock on Sunday mornings starting immediately." And below that, "Happy Birthday, Stark, from Romanoff."

He couldn't think of anything to say to that, not something that would preserve his reputation, anyway, not something like _Thank you_. Even though he knew that she'd probably done this just for the chance to beat him up (not that he'd ever admit she could), there was always the possibility that she wanted him to be able to take care of himself even without the suit. That however much she might protest otherwise, she didn't really want him to die just yet.

Clint had a similar offer of four one-hour archery lessons, though he explained to everyone that he just wanted Tony to stop badgering him to teach him.

Rhodey also had a card, filled with comments like, "Hope that the rest of your adventures are as exciting as the others," but also with a few short statements like "Stay safe," that meant a lot more.

Doctor Selvig and Jane had collaborated, having created an extremely small-scale sculpture of the galaxy that included what was apparently the most accurate physical model of a Schwarzschild wormhole ever. Tony had to tear his attention away from the encyclopedia-thick document detailing their work, sure that they had discovered something that might one day lead to faster space travel. Fury looked a little too interested in that particular gift, so Tony kept it next to him instead of giving it over to Dummy. He still didn't trust the director of SHIELD as much as he probably should. He knew that most of his teammates shared that opinion, too, so he really had no idea why Eye Patch and his Number One had been invited.

Darcy slipped him a card and a wrapped-up _Transformers _DVD, because she'd laughed hysterically two weeks ago when she'd found out that he'd never seen it.

Thor was next, a huge smile on his face as he dropped a large box into Tony's lap. The billionaire shot a quizzical glance at Jane, but she just shook her head and said, "I only helped with the wrapping paper."

Tony ripped off the red-and-gold paper and found a wooden crate, which Dummy opened. Inside was a very Thor-esque gift: a small dagger with a single ruby embedded in the hilt, and a matching sheath. "And . . . I'm supposed to use this?"

Thor nodded. "In case you do not have your armor."

Tony glanced up and caught Natasha's eye. She obviously approved of the gift, and murmured congratulations to the Asgardian for choosing such a useful item.

"Hey," Pepper said, nudging Tony. "What else is in there?"

Everyone pressed closer, trying to peer into the crate. Tony reached in and held up - something. Was that a sweater? A quilt? No, it was embroidery.

"My mother, the lady Frigga, heard that we did not have a battle standard, so she stitched one with her own hands."

They all looked intently at the apparent work of art. The Avengers "A" was in the center of the tapestry-like banner, worked in silver against a black background. The wide border was intricate and much more colorful, showing scenes of the team members and a few others. Tony spotted himself flying upwards, with the nuke on his back, in the upper right corner, and a bunch of other times throughout the standard.

"Why is all that so accurate?" Hill asked. "I mean, those likenesses are exact."

Thor shrugged as if it were no big deal. "My mother's skill."

"I'll make sure this is hung in a prominent place, Thor," Pepper said, and Tony guessed that she already had a spot picked out.

Tony set the crate and standard aside and leaned towards the thunder god. "Tell your mom thanks, big guy." For some reason, it was a little strange to fully realize that Thor was the only one on the team who had a living mother, and that however old he might be in earth years, in Asgardian counting he was little more than a kid.

Bruce stepped forward, holding a sheaf of papers as thick as Selvig and Jane's document had been. Tony took it from him and flipped through it, feeling his expression change to one of utter disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

The other scientist shook his head, rather sheepishly. "Well, I figured it out a while ago, but I wasn't completely sure and I didn't want to disappoint you."

Tony decided to clue everyone else in. "Bruce here discovered a solution to a problem we encountered in the clean energy scheme." He knew he had to speak simply with them, otherwise he'd lose them. He felt shocked, and he didn't know how Banner had done it. He'd have to read the report from the beginning. _Whoa. _"I can't believe I never thought to use the Planck constant. You're a genius!"

Bruce wrung his hands and stared at the floor, blushing. "Just doing my job."

"All right, guys, how about some food?" Pepper asked, clapping her hands once for order. Her offer was met with yells of approval, and, as if she had flipped a switch, the group moved quickly to the large dining table. Tony stayed behind, making a show of straightening up the wrapping paper and gifts, giving himself time to get a hold of himself because he'd been on autopilot, just reacting as he was supposed to and not really thinking. How could they do this? How _dare _they? He had personal space rights, didn't he? He couldn't let them do this, because once people broke those personal space barriers, someone always ended up getting hurt. Tony didn't want them to get hurt. None of them could deal with more suffering (well, sure they could, but he didn't want them to have to, and he especially didn't want their pain to be on his account). This was all so confusing. The worst part was that it wasn't a party like he was used to, with teeming crowds and screaming girls and complete anonymity (the latter because nobody really cared, not at those parties). This was like . . . Like something Tony didn't fully comprehend. Like family.

He'd never done anything to deserve this. Those times when he'd put his life on the line, those were just saving the world, doing his job, trying desperately to make up for everything he'd done before.

_Come on, Stark, pull yourself together, _he told himself. If he stayed away any longer, his guests would suspect that something was wrong. _Deep breaths. _

"Come on, Tony!" Pepper called. "We didn't order food so that you could eat it cold."

He mustered a grin and stood up quickly. "I just wanted to give the Blondies a chance to show off their spectacular microwave skills." Fortunately, the comment earned him some laughs, which made him feel confident enough to take a seat at the dining table. Unfortunately, the only space left was next to Fury. Tony still didn't know why the head of SHIELD had been invited, or why he'd actually shown up after being invited. While the other guests chattered noisily, Fury and Hill stayed pretty much silent, occasionally addressing short comments exclusively to each other unless someone asked them a direct question. Tony was feeling more and more uncomfortable.

His teammates seemed to sense the awkwardness of the situation, as well. "What did you think of your gifts?" Steve asked, admirably trying to distract him.

Grateful for the thread of conversation, he jumped to answer, in a tone that hovered between sarcasm and honesty. "Oh, they were fantastic."

"Actually," Fury said, startling the hell out of him and probably everyone else, "there's one more present left."

The music was blasting, the lights were flashing, and laughter and talk were loud, with drinks all around. Confetti was still flying through the air when a dead man walked into the room.

"Surprise," Coulson said.

**Hahaha I love cliffhangers, don't you? Whether you agree or not, leave a review! (And yes, that does indeed rhyme.) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Avengers**_** or anything associated with them, and I'm not making a profit by posting this story. **

**By the way, this story is set about two or three months after **_**The Avengers, **_**so the teammates aren't completely comfortable with each other yet.**

**Well, this is my favorite chapter because I think I finally got the Tony-snark mostly correct. The middle of this took a darker turn than I had originally planned, courtesy of Black Widow. Also, be prepared for a tiny bit of bad language, particularly when Natasha references some work-related problems. I don't know if it's clear or not, but she does **_**not **_**mean Hill. See, I try for humor and I end up with angst. Looks like I need some practice lol. **

**There's only one more chapter left, and I should update within a few days. **

**Once again, thanks so very much for the followers, favoriters, and, of course, the reviewers: PercyJacksontheAwesome, ruerox11, Nat-CatWoman, Dragon Reverb, and Lupin fan1. You are all awesome! **

Chapter III

_The music was blasting, the lights were flashing, and laughter and talk were loud, with drinks all around. Confetti was still flying through the air when a dead man walked into the room. _

_"Surprise," Coulson said. _

Silence. Dead silence, in fact, because it seemed as if The Agent had transferred his deadness to the rest of them by crashing the party. Tony's mouth was not the only one hanging open and the billionaire decided that he'd reached his limit. It was bound to happen sooner or later, especially since getting himself mixed up with these insane and inane heroes and their creepy one-eyed boss. He wished that he'd never gone to Afghanistan in the first place, because then he wouldn't be sitting at a table with a bunch of people who could kill him as easily as they could blink, in hundreds of messy and painful ways. And because then he wouldn't be trying to understand why the guy they'd avenged was standing in his doorway. They'd avenged him because he was _dead_! Thor had sworn to it! Hell, Tony himself had seen the blood on the trading cards, the blood on the wall in the Helimobile, the goddamned gravestone at Arlington. So why was he _alive_?

"Well," Coulson said, still in that dry, nothing-will-ever-faze-me-even-after-I've-been-buried tone. "I'm not really used to this sort of reception."

And suddenly Clint was getting out of his chair and walking towards The Agent. Tony knew that the sniper had known Coulson much longer than Natasha had and had grieved over his death even more than the rest of them, if that were possible. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as they watched Clint hug his handler. Tony wouldn't have been at all surprised if Coulson had turned out to be an illusion, but he wasn't.

And then everyone, Tony included, was standing up and rushing over and yelling and hugging and questioning and crying all at once. Pepper kissed Coulson, only on the cheek, and sure the guy had been dead, but Tony still thought that was mostly unnecessary on _his _girlfriend's part. When finally they all turned back, ushering the handler to the table where the food had probably definitely gone cold by now, they realized that three people hadn't moved in the first place.

Tony felt a thrill of fear. No, not just a thrill, he'd been thrown into an ice bucket of fear. Because Natasha was staring at Fury with a murderous expression, and he knew from experience what it was like to be on the receiving end of that glare, but something was different this time. Her fists were balled up, and even from the doorway Tony could see that her knuckles were white. When she threatened him, she was always completely composed, as if she could kill them casually and not care much, but this was different because she looked like – suspiciously like – she was on the edge of control, like she never had been before. The rest of Coulson's welcoming committee seemed to realize this at the exact same moment as Tony, and everyone froze. And then the Black Widow lost it.

"How _dare _you? How dare you keep this from him? He thought he'd _killed _him and you said _nothing!_" She was on her feet and screaming now, screaming in rage. No one had to ask who 'he' was.

Tony had rarely ever felt so tense. He could hear his heart pounding, and adrenaline rushing through his system in case he had to make a run for it. He felt cemented to the spot, knowing that all he could do was wait out the storm. From the corner of his eye, he saw Steve open his mouth to try and mediate, but he elbowed the supersoldier and shook his head quickly. Luckily, Steve listened and stayed quiet. Tony tore his gaze away from Natasha and looked at Fury, then decided that if the man was smart enough to become the director of SHIELD he should be smart enough to know when to make a fast exit. Then again, it wouldn't matter, because when the Widow was out for blood, no distance could deter her.

"He thought it was his fault and you didn't tell him! And you stuck us with that bitch of a bureaucratic handler who nearly killed us instead. Coulson was like his father and you let him think that it was his fault that he died!"

"Tasha –." Clint started towards her, but Thor had the presence of mind to restrain the archer.

"Shut up," she snarled. "You should have seen yourself all those times – for months!" She rounded on Fury again. "And I trusted you to _keep him safe_ and you didn't. Bastard."

Already she was calming down, gaining control and damming up her flash flood of anger. Everyone else stayed quiet. Tony realized that he had seen the Black Widow have something dangerously close to a full-out temper tantrum for the first time ever and he had actually lived. Hopefully it would be the only time ever. He also noticed that she hadn't been upset for herself, but for Clint, and if the situation had been slightly more tranquil, he would have made at least one comment about her Mama Bear attitude.

Fury stood up, very calmly, as if the (arguably) deadliest person in the room hadn't just ranted at him for harming her best friend (_More than that? _Tony still didn't know, but now wasn't exactly the right time to ask). "Romanoff, we all did what we had to. Feel free to bring this up with me some other time. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have to get back to work. Phil, you can stay."

"I'll stay to keep an eye on him," Hill said, receiving a nod from Fury.

The others stepped aside to clear a path to the doorway for the director. As he passed, he said, "Happy birthday, Stark," then slammed the door behind him. Once he was gone, a great deal of tension disappeared from the room. Tony sighed in relief, mind reeling from everything that had happened in the past hour, then remembered that Natasha was not in a happy place. He'd have to find a way to remedy that. He knew that the first step would be to draw the attention away from her, so he asked loudly, "Well, who's ready to party?"

His offer was met with a chorus of cheers, but Pepper held up her hands. "Who wants cake first?" Her offer was met with much louder shouts. Everyone reseated themselves at the table and waited for Pepper to get the cake from the refrigerator. Tony looked around, surveying the expressions of his guests. Rhodey looked shaken. So did Selvig. And Jane, to a slightly lesser degree. Darcy had her taser in her hand. Tony couldn't blame them; after all, they didn't know Natasha as well as the rest of them.

They made Tony sit at the head of the table this time, and he had to admit that it was much better than sitting next to Fury. Pepper brought out the cake, and they managed to narrowly avoid a fiasco when they lit the candles. (Tony would have thought that four scientists alone should be able to work a simple lighter, but boy, those things were tricky. Eventually, they had to delegate the task to Steve, who somehow accomplished it without inflicting any injuries. Tony was sure that it was beginner's luck. He made a mental note to start designing easy-to-use candle lighters ASAP. Or maybe candles that lit themselves.)

They were about to start singing "Happy Birthday" when Bruce said, "Wait!" The outburst drew the attention of the guests, in case they suddenly had to run for their lives, but the doctor didn't start to morph. Instead, he jumped up and hurried to the bar, then returned just as quickly with a box of multicolored paper party hats. There was a sudden mad scramble for the good colors, and somehow poor Bruce ended up with a green-and-purple-striped one.

After they had finished snickering at the color-coded doctor, the guests launched enthusiastically into the birthday song. Well, most of the guests, considering that Natasha was probably still seething under that casual mask of hers, and didn't participate in frivolous human activities like singing at parties anyway, even when she was in a good mood. And about half of the others were still in shock from seeing Coulson alive. Hell, Tony was still in shock from seeing Coulson alive. The other half were in delayed terror from witnessing Natasha's most recent stunt. All right, so Thor and Rhodey sang enthusiastically. (Whoever had taught Thor the words had actually done a pretty good job.) Everyone else, JARVIS included, either sang along softly, voices gaining strength as they went on, or didn't sing at all.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you . . ."

Tony decided that the issue of Coulson being alive and kept from them was too complicated to dwell on for the moment. First things first: he had flesh-and-blood friends who were singing happy birthday to him. A lifetime of past transgressions flashed through his mind. He could barely believe that risking his life for others one measly little time had made him worthy of friends like them. Take Bruce, who could have taken over the world if he'd wanted but instead dedicated his life to saving others. Or Thor, a Norse god come down from another world to protect not only psycho Loki (who deserved his brother's devotion about as much as Tony) but the petty humans, as well, with his courage and honor. Or Clint and Natasha, who might be a little scary but were also loyal to the last. And Steve . . . Tony didn't even want to think about how much they all paled in comparison to the Cap, but they did, him especially. Steve was about as perfect as humans (and Asgardians, for that matter) could get, and Tony had no chance of deserving his friendship, much less ever living up to his example.

"Happy birthday, dear Tony . . ."

He honestly couldn't remember the last time people he actually knew sang happy birthday for him. Could they really mean that part about "dear?" His mother had called him that, sometimes, though he'd usually made a show of being embarrassed by her. Dear Tony. Maybe this wasn't all a big joke, maybe they really did care for him, by some freak twist of fate. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, didn't think it was right for him to accept their friendships, but just maybe, he could.

"Happy birthday to you!"


End file.
